Visitor
by mumblybee
Summary: Sixteen-year-old James Potter has an unexpected visitor early one morning. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

_**Note:** I am only posting this here because my friend, Darkness-Chill, demanded it. I begged and pleaded. I asked for more time. She said, and I quote, "NO, POST IT NOW OR I'LL SKEWER YOU." I would prefer not to be skewered, and so here we are._

* * *

James Potter rolled over in his bed, inadvertantly entrapping his leg in the snitch-patterned sheets so that when the knocking at his bedroom door startled him awake, he made to sit up and instead fell to the ground with a loud THUNK.

The knocking stopped. "James, dear? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, Mum, just fell," he grumbled in a croaky early-morning voice, sitting up and grabbing for the glasses on his night table. "You can come in."

Mrs. Potter entered the room with the kind of caution learned by being mother to a teenager. "I know it's early, dear, but…" She paused uncertainly. "…you have a visitor."

James glanced at the broomstick hands of the Quidditch-themed clock on his wall, then blinked at his mother through the lenses of his glasses. "Early? Mum, it's six in the morning!" His gaze traveled to the window. The sky was much too dark, even with the heavy rain that was battering the glass. "Anyone who's visiting me at six in the morning isn't welcome! Bloody hell, what kind of insane sort of person gets up at_ six. in. the. morning?_" He took a breath to continue his tirade but then noticed the troubled look on his mother's face and closed his mouth abruptly. It was the sort of look she wore when someone was gravely ill.

"I think you should come downstairs," Mrs. Potter said quietly.

"Should I change?" James asked, feeling suddenly frightened. What had happened? Was someone hurt? Had there been an attack? A chill ran down his spine. Those were getting more and more frequent lately.

"I don't think he'll mind either way," his mother answered. James nodded stiffly, too nervous to ask who 'he' was. He followed her in his Quaffle-covered pajamas out of his room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

James stopped short, blinking in confusion.

Sirius Black was sitting at his kitchen table. He was sopping wet, as though he'd been outside for hours, and shivering under a quilt Mrs. Potter had made. When he noticed James he made an obviously painful yet valiant attempt at his trademark grin and managed only a shadow of it.

"'Lo, Prongs," he said. His voice was hoarse, wavering even in only those two syllables. He was nearly unrecognizable as James's best friend. His hair, normally silky and elegant, was wildly unkempt and bedraggled by the rain. His robes, which were usually impeccable without ever giving the impression that he'd tried to make them so, were ragged, wet, and muddy. The most strikingly obvious difference, however, was in his face. The infamous confidence and spirit was missing. He was very, very pale and would not meet either James or Mrs. Potter's eyes, instead fixing his gaze on his hands, which were folded on the table.

James stared at his friend, speechless for a moment, his sleep-addled brain struggling to understand. This was wrong, all wrong. This was not how Sirius Black was supposed to look. The world must've been turned on its head. Finally he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"What did she do?"

Sirius laughed, an unpleasantly hollow sound. "Nothing she hasn't done before," he answered. His teeth chattered despite the quilt.

There was a pause. Mrs. Potter cleared her throat. "I'll go get you a nice clean set of robes, dear," she said to Sirius, patting him gently on the shoulder.

He smiled slightly but didn't look up. "Thank you, Mrs. Potter." She nodded, turning away with teary eyes and heading up the stairs.

James sat down next to Sirius but waited until his mother was upstairs before he dared to ask his next question. "Did she hurt you?" he asked, studying his friend's face hard.

Sirius closed his eyes. "No."

James frowned, not sure whether to believe him. "What happened?"

He shrugged. "Same old thing. She yells, I yell, she yells some more, I leave."

"But it's never been this bad," James said.

Sirius said nothing for a long moment. Then his eyes opened and he lifted his head, fixing James with a piercing, pale-eyed stare. "I'm not going back this time," he said quietly, his voice shaking with what James realized was suppressed rage. "I'm never going back there. I don't know where I'll stay now but _I'm never going back there again._ Maybe Dumbledore'll let me stay at Hogwarts over the summer…if…if I explain…" He took a big, shuddering breath. "Or if I have to…I'll just, I don't know, live as a dog till term starts," he said, his voice breaking just a little.

James stared, hit by such an intense wave of hatred for Sirius's mother that he felt physically ill. "Don't be a bloody lunatic, Sirius," he heard himself say through the thick red haze of fury in his head.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Sirius said angrily, sitting up straighter and tossing his hair back. Water droplets sprayed everywhere. "You don't _get_ it, James, I _can't_ –"

"You'll stay here," James cut him off.

Sirius was surprised into silence. His mouth closed and he considered James for a moment. "I can't do that," he said after a pause.

"Why not? Because you have to be big and bad and tough and independent? Don't be a bloody lunatic," James repeated in exasperation.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak but stopped, looking beyond James, who turned around to see his mother standing with a folded pair of fresh robes in her arms.

"We do have a guest room," she said, smiling tentatively at Sirius.

"I know," he mumbled. He'd stayed there for at least two weeks every summer since James had met him.

"C'mon, mate," James said, giving Sirius's arm a gentle shove. "Don't be thick."

When Sirius didn't answer, Mrs. Potter clapped her hands together, startling both boys. "Well, let's get you settled in," she said with forced cheer. "You don't have to decide right now, dear, but won't you stay at least a few days?" she said. "It's been far too long. We've missed you in this house."

"All right," Sirius said reluctantly, unable to say no to the warmly smiling Mrs. Potter. He stood up and followed her upstairs to the guest room, James at his heels, everyone behaving as though it were just another holiday he was spending at Godric's Hollow.

James watched from the doorway as Sirius, newly dressed in the clean pair of robes, helped Mrs. Potter set up the guest bed like he'd done a thousand times before. His mother said something that James couldn't hear and Sirius laughed – a genuine bark of laughter. A smile formed slowly on James's face at the familiar sound, chasing away the knot in his throat. Sirius passed by him to grab a pillow from the closet, and James prodded his arm.

"What was that for?" Sirius said, irritated.

James gazed at him with wide, innocent eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius rolled his eyes and turned away, and James grinned.

Everything was going to be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sirius, you coming out of there at some point?" James called, resting his forehead against the guest room door. There was no answer. It was nearly noon and still Sirius hadn't been downstairs. This was not unusual; he was a notoriously late riser. At Hogwarts he had to be literally dragged out of his bed (and, at times, out of Gryffindor Tower itself) in order to make it to classes on time. But even so, after yesterday…James wasn't taking any chances.

They had spent a quiet day – very abnormal for the two of them – playing chess and card games while James's parents were around and planning out elaborate pranks when they weren't. It had been a relatively normal day after that unexpected beginning, but Sirius had never entirely recovered, remaining pale and withdrawn even while plotting to turn Snivellus's hair into a bright pink afro.

"I'm opening the door," James warned. No response. Frowning, he turned the knob and stepped inside to find Sirius sitting on the bed, staring at a bright red envelope that he was clutching so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

"Your mum send that?" James asked, looking at the Howler apprehensively.

Sirius snorted, not looking up. "Who else?" He studied the envelope with the same look he got when contemplating the execution of a particularly complicated prank.

"We could try burning it," James suggested. "Or a silencing charm."

Sirius shook his head, and James knew he must've already dismissed those ideas. "Won't work. Trust me, I've gotten about a thousand of these over the years." He grinned bitterly, then tore the envelope open with one swift motion, like ripping off a bandage. It shot up out of his hands and began screaming.

_"BLOOD TRAITOR! DISGRACEFUL FILTH! NO BETTER THAN THE MUDBLOOD SCUM YOU DEFEND! NO LONGER WILL YOU SOIL THE HOUSE OF BLACK WITH YOUR NAME!"_

James grit his teeth as Mrs. Black's screeching tones filled the house. He looked at his friend, who was watching the envelope with an oddly cool expression as it flapped about screaming. Even when Sirius's mother called him a variety of startlingly offensive names that made James flinch, Sirius's face never so much as flickered with any emotion stronger than annoyance. How could he be so nonchalant?

Finally the Howler exploded into ash. James realized he'd been holding his breath and let it out slowly, not sure what to say. He'd been present for several of Sirius's Howlers, but none of them had ever been quite that explicit.

"Well, that's done then," Sirius declared, standing and brushing off his hands. He yawned and turned to James. "Breakfast?" he said brightly, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Er, lunch, rather?"

"Yeah," James said dazedly, still shaking off his shock. "C'mon." He headed downstairs. Sirius followed, cheerful as anything.

Mrs. Potter had cooked up a storm earlier before leaving for a day of shopping in Diagon Alley with her sister, charming the food to stay warm in her absence. There were eggs, muffins, marmalade, sausages, toast, bacon, waffles, fruit, and seven types of juice on the table. It looked to be enough to feed twenty people, but James knew from experience that most of it would be disappearing into Sirius's stomach shortly. He eyed the note his mother had left to accompany the food.

_Enjoy, boys, and have fun today. I'll be home later this afternoon. James, your father will be home late tonight._

Mr. Potter had been working later and later hours at the Ministry these days. He rarely complained, but James saw the dark circles under his father's eyes and heard the worried whispers between his parents at night. Dark forces were growing stronger by the day, recruiting more and more people like Sirius's mother, who believed in little else besides preserving the "purity" of blood.

"Doesn't it bother you at all?" said James abruptly, as he sat down at the table and began filling his plate.

Sirius regarded him with a closed expression. "That you're blocking my orange juice with your elbow? I'm utterly distraught."

James moved his elbow.

"Thank god," Sirius said with a fake sigh of relief, taking a gulp of juice.

"You know what I meant," James said. "The Howler. All that stuff she said." He wasn't going to let Sirius avoid the subject. Not this time. Something big had happened, James was sure of it, and he was determined to find out what.

Sirius set down the cup and gazed at James for a moment, the intensity of his pale eyes a little unnerving – probably purposely so. But James just waited, staring straight back until something flickered in Sirius's face and he looked away.

"No," he said. He reached for a muffin and took a bite, ignoring the frustrated noise James made.

"How could it not? Hearing that old bitch blather on all the time? Why do you act like you don't care?"

Something tightened in Sirius's expression. "It's none of your business," he said, his voice coolling slightly – a warning sign that James recognized immediately.

"Don't be touchy," he replied, getting a bit irritated himself. "We're best friends, aren't we? But you don't tell me anything about home except that you hate your mum's guts and your family's full of pureblood maniacs. And I don't think you even _told_ me that, I just found out from other people, or noticed things – like the Howlers."

Sirius shrugged, stabbing his fork into a piece of egg a bit more forcefully than necessary. "Not much else to tell."

"Obviously there is or you wouldn't be sitting here right now," James said, losing patience.

Sirius made a sudden motion as though to stand up but then appeared to think better of it and sat staring at the wall, his fork now lying on the table. James had the distinct expression that his friend was working hard to restrain himself.

"Why didn't you ever talk to me about it?" James said, trying to keep his voice calm. Sirius was unpredictable enough as it was without inciting him further.

"Because talking isn't going to change any of it! _This is how it is!"_ Sirius snapped, standing abruptly and beginning to pace, gesturing with his arms as he spoke. "Yes. My _mother_ –" he practically spat the word, "—has all the emotion of a walking corpse and seems to sustain herself purely on bigoted pureblood psychosis."

James swallowed. "Sirius –"

"My father has less backbone than a flobberworm and my dear little brother is growing up to be Mummy's Little Death Eater. She is _so_ very proud, I must say, it nearly brings tears to the eyes."

"_Sirius_ –"

"And as for me? It's a terrible shame but my mother and I just don't have a very strong bond, I'm afraid. You see I have a little trouble sitting quietly through her lectures about how Voldemort's got the right idea, we should be clearing out the gene pool of all of that _Mudblood filth_, just like culling the herd, you know, it might be unpleasant but it has to be done to ensure the survival of our _noble, Muggle-killing, hate-mongering_ heritage – because that's how it _goes_, James, that's –"

"SIRIUS."

He stopped midstride, giving James a puzzled look.

"Your arm," James said, staring white-faced.

Sirius glanced down – in his gesturing the left sleeve of his robes had slipped up to his elbow, revealing angry red welts scattered over the exposed skin.

"Oh," he said, looking uncomfortable and guilty for the first time as the anger seeped out of him.

James felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. He grasped for the right words."Did she – did your –"

"Yeah, it was a hex," said Sirius, in an off-hand sort of way. He sat down again and wouldn't look at James. "A poor attempt, really. I've seen better from Snivellus. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" James repeated in disbelief. "Sirius, she _hurt_ you." He said it as though he could imagine nothing worse in the world. He searched his friend's face but Sirius's expression was unreadable.

"She did," he said slowly, "but she won't anymore. And it barely stings now. It's okay."

James looked at him as though he'd gone absolutely mad. "You never told me," he said, feeling anger, hurt, sadness, everything rushing through him at once. "She's been hurting you and you never, not once –"

"_No_," Sirius said sharply, looking alarmed at the idea that he'd been lying to his best friend. "No, this was the first time." He ran a hand through his hair and looked suddenly very tired. "And the last. I packed my trunk and left before she could try it again."

"Bloody bitch," James growled.

"Can't all have a mum like yours," Sirius shrugged, indifferent once again. He took a sip of his orange juice, still not meeting James's eyes.

"She wants you to stay, you know," James said after a pause, feeling a bit awkward. "For as long as you need. My dad does too…And so do I."

Sirius hesitated, but they both knew he had nowhere else to go. "Thanks," he said at last.

James nodded. "We'll have more time to work on The Project," he said casually. Sirius's eyes lit up as he grinned and James couldn't help brightening at the sight.

"Right," Sirius said, and all the unpleasantness of the previous conversation seemed to vanish as both boys settled into Marauder mode."You have it with you now?"

"'Course," said James, removing a rolled up piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes. He'd been carrying The Project around with him ever since they'd begun it at the end of last term, working at it whenever he got a spare moment away from prying eyes.

"Excellent," Sirius said, helping to unfurl it as they laid it on the table. He retrieved his wand from his pocket, and James did the same.

"On the count of three, then?" James said.

Sirius nodded. "One."

"Two."

"Three."

They tapped the parchment with their wands.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," they said together, and grinned at each other as the map began to take form.


	3. Chapter 3

_Note: Sorry for the poor formatting. I haven't got the patience to fight with this website for the format I want._**  
**

* * *

Dear Prongs,

Have you heard anything from Padfoot? I know he's forgetful and all but usually he owls me at least five hundred times a day. It's been weeks now since his last letter. I'm not sure things are going so well at the grim old place.

- Moony

* * *

Moony –

Sorry, should've owled sooner. Pads is fine. Evidently the bitch had been burning his letters before they could touch his hands. He's staying with me for now, says he's not going back this time. I'll talk to you about it soon.

- Prongs

* * *

Prongs,

Good, I was worried he'd up and joined the circus like he'd been threatening. Tell him I've missed having all my meals interrupted by owls.

- M

* * *

Moony,

Don't go blaming me later when you want to strangle him.

- Prongs

* * *

My Dearest and Furriest Friend,

Prongs tells me you have been pining in my absence. Although I cannot blame you for your misery, I do suggest that you take up a hobby (such as cartography) in order to temporarily fill the gaping hole in your heart.

Wishing you a most pleasant holiday,

Padfoot

* * *

Padfoot,

I will admit it is good to hear from you, but I fear you have overestimated your importance in my life. Nonetheless, cartography sounds like an excellent hobby and I thank you for the suggestion. Do try not to chase too many squirrels while I am not around to dissuade you; I know how they get to you.

See you soon,

Moony

* * *

Moony,

Overestimated? Hardly. I believe you are lying to yourself, my friend. It's a terrible shame. You ought to quit living in denial.

And the squirrels don't 'get to me.' I get to them.

How soon?

– Padfoot

* * *

Padfoot,

You are so stubborn with your false convictions. I feel sorry for Prongs's poor owl, having to carry this nonsense.

Three weeks before term.

– Moony

* * *

Moony,

Your words have stabbed me through the heart. It's made a terrible mess and I don't think I'll ever recover. You should be ashamed of yourself, you fluffy bastard.

Perfect timing.

– Padfoot

* * *

Padfoot,

Don't you think you might be acting a bit overdramatic?

Dare I ask why?

– Moony

* * *

M,

No, and no.

– P

* * *

P,

Fine. See you in a few weeks.

– M


	4. Chapter 4

Something cold and wet trailed along James's bare arm as he slept. _Snail,_ he thought irrationally, still halfway dreaming. He pushed the thing away but it pressed insistently into his shoulder, and some sort of hand or paw swiped at his side, its claws grazing his stomach. James flailed out in a panic, sitting bolt upright with his eyes wide open, scrambling for his wand to subdue –

Padfoot.

James resisted the urge to strangle the great, shaggy black dog. "Why?" he groaned, glaring at Sirius, who in return gave him a reproachful look that brought a strange humanity to the dog's pale eyes. There were sparks of red and gold lights dancing about the room like tiny stars, James noticed vaguely, wondering if he was seeing things. Sirius was sitting on the edge of James's mattress, which they had dragged into the guestroom weeks ago so that the two of them could stay up plotting through the night.

With an irritated huff, James reached for his glasses beside the mattress and shoved them on."What's your problem?" he snapped when Sirius continued to regard him with annoyance.

"You hit him on the snout," Remus said calmly from a third mattress, which they'd managed to fit into the corner of the room somehow. ("This is like Tetris," Remus had remarked when he'd arrived two days ago and they were trying to figure out how to fit two mattresses, one bed, two trunks, a bureau, and a bookshelf into the room. When James and Sirius had both stared blankly at him, he'd shaken his head and said, "Nevermind. It's a Muggle thing.")

"Well, that's his fault for snuffling at me like a bloody idiot," James said grumpily. A low growl came from Sirius's throat and James shot him a dirty look. "Oh shut up, you big mongrel. What's with the canine thing today anyway?"

Sirius stood up and strode over Remus's mattress, moving with surprising grace for a dog his size and for Sirius in general. He pressed his nose against the window and stared out at the green grass and blue skies, smudging up the glass with his breath.

Remus and James exchanged a glance.

"Er, Sirius?" Remus said.

The dog's ear flicked back toward his voice and Remus seemed to take this as a sign that he was listening. James wasn't so sure.

"Why _did_ you transform again?" Remus asked tentatively.

This time Sirius turned around and let out a great doggy sigh as though irritated with the both of them. James was about to threaten to drop him off at the pound when Sirius transformed into a boy again, sitting cross-legged beside Remus and looking just as sullen and annoyed as he had in dog form.

"Dunno," Sirius said. "Bored."

"Really?" said James, glancing at the sparks of light still shimmering about in the air. Sirius must have been casting them for fun. The underage wizarding laws weren't much of threat to them here, seeing as James's parents were both authorized to do magic. "I'd never have guessed."

Remus smiled. "Mapmaking getting a bit too tedious for the adventuresome Mr. Black?"

Sirius looked thoughtful. "Adventuresome. I like that. Can we add that to my name on the map? _The Adventuresome Mr. Padfoot._"

"How about the Hopelessly Distractable Mr. Padfoot? I think that's a bit more accurate." James ducked and reached out a hand to catch the pillow Sirius had just chucked at his head.

"And the Incredibly Arrogant, Evans-Repelling Mr. Prongs," Remus added. James dutifully tossed the pillow at him, which missed and hit Sirius in the face.

"The Incredibly Boring Mr. Moony," James retorted.

"Boring? Really?" Remus protested, scrambling out of reach of Sirius, who'd gone for a tackle.

"Yeah, once a month you get a bit interesting…but only a bit," Sirius said with a grin, giving up on the tackle. He settled instead on sending the sparks of light after Remus with a flick of the wand he'd retrieved from his pocket.

"Oh how you've wounded me," Remus said dryly. He pushed the lights out of his face as though warding off gnats, and they scattered.

"Well, you gave me a nasty bite on the arse last month so I s'pose we're even," Sirius replied with a glint in his eye.

James shot him a glare. "Don't tell him that! He didn't need to know that!"

"I hurt you?" Remus said, looking puzzled and worried. "I'm –"

"So very very sorry, we know," James said, waving a hand in dismissal. "Don't fret about it."

"I'm not –"

"Yes you are. You can't help yourself. You're a fretter."

"It's one of your greatest talents," Sirius agreed. "If there was a Fretting Championship you would be the Grand Champion Fretter. You, my dear Moony, are the frettiest fretter who ever fretted."

Remus frowned. He looked ready to argue further…or perhaps to punch Sirius in the face. James jumped in hurriedly.

"So!" he said, leaping to his feet and clapping his hands together. "Who wants to go to the park?"

Remus just blinked at him but Sirius brightened, a huge grin spreading across his face. He jumped up and down and spoke in an annoyingly shrill voice. "Oh, I do! I do! Oh please, father, please won't you take us to the park? I would be _ever so_ delighted!"

James put on a stern face. "Well, let me see…"

"Please oh _please?_" Sirius said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Remus sighed and shook his head, but behind his exasperation lurked a smile.

James patted Sirius on the head. "Well, son, you've been a good lad. I believe you deserve an outing. Shall we bring the dog?"

"The dog would be positively thrilled to go for a run, I think," said Sirius. He glanced at Remus, smirking slightly. "What about my pet werewolf, father, can he come too?"

"Hmm," said James, considering the now-glaring Remus. "Well, so long as you're sure not to let him bite anyone."

"He's the one you ought to be worried about," Remus grumbled,with a scowl in Sirius's direction.

Sirius beamed. "We're going to the park, we're going to the park!" he sang in the same shrill voice.

James couldn't manage to summon up any semblance of annoyance. He exchanged a glance with Remus that was half-amused and half-relieved that Sirius was acting like his irritating self again. James had taken Remus aside on the night of his arrival to tell him the details of Sirius's escape, and ever since then Remus had been poorly concealing his concern, shooting worried looks at James when Sirius began to brood – which he did whenever he thought no one was paying attention.

"Let's go, then!" Sirius said impatiently when James took his time finding some appropriate Muggle clothing in the bureau.

"We haven't even had breakfast," Remus pointed out.

"There are some things more important than breakfast," Sirius said solemnly.

James stopped rummaging through his clothes and stared at his best friend. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

Sirius shrugged. "Oh, I'm full of surprises." He stomach grumbled loudly at just that moment, and all three of them laughed.

"But apparently not full of food," Remus said, yawning and standing.

James walked toward the door. "C'mon, Padfoot, let's go and eat something."

"Or you'll be hunting down squirrels later," Remus added, making a face at the thought.

"What's wrong with that?" Sirius said, trailing behind Remus and James as they made their way down the hall and to the stairs.

"Are you really asking me what's wrong with _eating squirrels?_"

"Are you really asking me what I'm asking you? How's your hearing, Moony? Perhaps you should get that checked out."

"Perhaps I should hex you."

"Mr. Moony! Five hundred thousand points from Gryffindor for your rudeness!"

"Five hundred _thousand_?"

"Yes, and it'll be five hundred million if you speak another word!"

James descended from the last step and turned to look at Sirius and Remus. "You're a pair of bickering idiots, you know that?"

Sirius and Remus glanced at each other. "Don't worry, Prongs," Sirius said, throwing an arm around James's shoulders, "we think you're an idiot too."

James grinned. "Aw, d'you really mean it?"

Remus nodded. "Absolutely."

Sirius put his other arm around Remus's shoulders. "See? One big happy family."

And together the three of them marched into the kitchen.


End file.
